The Burberry Conspiracy
by Greer Bontro
Summary: The women of One P.P. are up to something. Goren and Deakins are men without a clue.


Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns everything. We just had a play date.

Title: The Burberry Conspiracy

Rating: K+

Humor.

Characters: Goren, Deakins, Eames, Logan, Barek

Summary: The women of One PP are up to something. Goren and Deakins are men without a clue.

Reviews welcome. Feel free to write a spin-off, follow-up, whatever.

The female employees at One Police Plaza had been sending emails, whispering on the phones and gathering in the hallways for two days. Detectives, secretaries, accounting people, evidence clerks. All of the female persuasion. If a man walked within five feet of them, the conversation came to a dead halt. No one, no one of the male persuasion that is, had a clue as to what was going on.

Deakins knew that something was afoot, but couldn't get any female to actually tell him what it was.

According to Eames, "We were discussing our childbirth experiences. About how when the placenta separates…..," when Deakins held up his hand making the _stop_ signal. His stomach did not need to go there.

Barek, who lacked a working familiarity with a stove, told him, "Emily from accounting was telling me how to make cannoli shells." He wasn't buying it, but she did say it sincerely.

Isabella, the Chief of D's secretary, said, "We were discussing the symptoms of menopause. Ya know, when you get those hot flashes…." Deakins didn't want to know.

Last, but not least, Tawanna, one of the evidence clerks, insisted they were covering the finer points of roasting the twigs used to make macrobiotic Japanese twig tea. Apparently the twigs in the pan must be stirred in the appropriate direction taking into consideration which hemisphere, northern or southern, you happened to be in at the time. Like Tawanna would know macrobiotic from the Queen of England.

None of his grilling of the ladies had given Deakins the slightest clue as to what was going on, so he put his best dectective on it.

"Step into 'em," Deakins ordered Goren.

But even the star of Major Case hadn't been able to crack it.

"This is a bigger mystery than whatever Jennifer Aniston sees in Vince Vaughn," said Goren.

"They're plotting something," observed Mike Logan, "You're the one who's supposed to understand _women_, Goren…."

"Well, I don't understand this…whatever _this_ is," sighed Goren, "Hopefully, it does_ not _involve one of us."

"Oh, shit…ya think?" worried Logan.

"Who knows? We'll just have to wait and see."

"That's what I'm afraid of," shot back Logan.

About an hour later Goren and Eames were called out to a crime scene. Bobby tossed Eames' her jacket, but didn't see his raincoat on the coat rack. He walked up and down the rack quickly looking at every coat hanging there. None was his.

"Goren, let's go. The evidence is getting cold."

"Eames, have you seen my coat? The black Burberry?"

"It's not on the rack?"

"No."

"Leave it in an interrogation room?"

"Nope."

"You must have left it in your car."

"That must be it. It's not that cold, I can do without it. Let's roll."

After work that night when Goren got into his car he looked for his Burberry. It wasn't on the front or back seats, nor was it in the cargo area. _Where the hell is that coat?_ _Don't tell me I left it somewhere.__Maybe it's hanging in the coat closet at home._

When Goren arrived at his apartment he searched for the missing Burberry. Not in any closet. Not laid over a chair. He even called his dry cleaners. Not there either. Where the hell was that freakin' raincoat?

"Great job, ladies! Mission accomplished," said Eames. "We have managed to hijack Goren's raincoat and made it vanish. I have it on good authority that it landed in the clothing bin by the church soup kitchen. It will go to a good home."

"Goren is just way too hunky to be hiding under that damn raincoat," sighed Isabella, "He looks good enough to eat in those Armani suits. Unless it's pouring rain or freezing cold, he shouldn't be allowed to wear a raincoat to cover it up."

"_What_ is it with detectives and raincoats?" asked Barek, "Colombo started it and now they all think it's _de rigeur_. Goren's Burberry might a be a hell of a lot classier than that ratty rag Colombo wore, but it's still depriving us of seeing _Detective McDreamy_ in those scrumptious Armani suits."

"I find excuses to visit the 11th floor whenever Goren's around," confessed Tawanna, "He is _so_ hot. And the best part is he has no idea. He doesn't have that conceit a lot of good-looking guys have. All you have to do is _look_ at him and he blushes. It is _so_ cute."

Two days later.

"Well, Goren, have you solved the mystery?" asked Mike Logan.

"Nope. Whatever they were plotting, they have either accomplished it or gave up on it, Mike. All the whispering seems to have ceased."

"And you are clueless?"

"The only thing that happened around here in the last few days is that I lost my raincoat. I can't imagine that the women gave a damn about my Burberry."

FIN.


End file.
